A Silenced Canary
by GooseBerries18
Summary: He is a brutal victor from District One, the supposed lapdogs of the Capitol. She is an engineer-to-be from District Three, the first to rebel during the Dark Days. They were never meant to belong together, but can they find an understanding? Can she survive being thrown into a world she never expected to be a part of?


**This is just a quick note. Nadia is a character that I've worked with for years now. I began to write this fic years ago when Catching Fire first came out but lost the muse for it until recently. This will eventually become a Gloss/OC fic, but that will not occur until after Nadia's first Hunger Games. I wanted to establish her character first. Anyway, I'll leave you with that and with the plan to update weekly. I hope you enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

* * *

_Quotidian (adj): of or occurring every day, daily; mundane_

* * *

The first memory I have is being told I had 'potential'. It didn't make sense the first few times it was said to me, but I knew the word was important. My parents spoke it with voices full of pride, as though this potential I had would be enough to save the entire family. There was always plenty of competition between my twin brother and me, but they never once told him that he had the potential that I did.

I didn't understand the term until I was twelve years old. That was the year every child was given the EAE, or Engineer Aptitude Exam, and that singular exam was what determined their entire future. The exam tested a person's intelligence, deductive reasoning, and logic skills, and was scored out of one hundred points. The day after the EAE, I understood that potential meant scoring a ninety-two on the exam. Earning a score of eighty or above meant that a student could then be registered to the engineering academy, sealing their fate as one of luxury.

Potential meant that I would have the chance to escape the poverty that most people of District Three have to endure. Only the engineers and the victors regularly had enough food to eat and it was my supposed potential that allowed me to fight for that life.

* * *

The morning before the Reaping, I wake up with a chill already burrowed deep in my bones. The lethargy that usually accompanies me this early in the day has no chance against the cold air that seeps in through the window. It is a chill that is only felt before the sun is given time to rise, proving once again that the engineering academy expects its students to wake up way too early.

I move with caution in each step, moving at a slow pace through the darkened home into the kitchen. It is the only time I am grateful for a tiny house, as the walk from the bedroom Lumen and I share to the main room is only a few paces long. I can still vividly recall the guilt that accompanied the first time I woke up my mother or father this early in the morning. They work late at night and tend to sleep through the day; they would only have returned home an hour ago.

I am typically alone in the morning. It isn't something I regret, but rather it gives me time to think for myself without having to worry about anyone else. There is no need to make my parents proud as their daughter who is being trained to be an engineer. There is also no need to watch Lumen to ensure he doesn't say something that could be construed as treasonous. According to our mother, Lumen was always bold and willing to make any noise he wanted. He was independent right from the start while I tended to be tied to his hip, preferring to stay in the shadows and do my own work.

I guess some things don't change.

"Do you want a full roll today?" The voice comes from the kitchen and is unexpected. Instantly my heart begins to race and my hands shake in response to the noise that shouldn't have been there. Normally I am alone and yet there at the worn dining table, my twin brother sits, a full roll in hand with a bite taken out of it already.

"What are you doing up?" I whisper back, ignoring his question and crossing to the tin of bread on the table. The square-shaped rolls were made from the grains we each received in return or adding extra names into the drawing that would occur tomorrow. The tin was already half-empty as the bread was used as dinner most nights.

"Couldn't sleep. I think I'll skip class today, it's not like I'll be able to focus anyway." It's a fair point. The looming threat of the Reaping sits heavily on my shoulders, undoubtedly making the studies for today that much harder.

"You just don't want to go to school," I fire back, rolling my round brown eyes and ripping one bread roll in half for myself.

"That's true. 'S not exactly useful for me." Lumen attends technical school; the school in which most of the children in the district learn a trade. He will be learning to be an assembly line operator like our father. "Only a half? Take a whole one. It's gonna be a long day."

I shake my head instantly, already calculating how long our half-tin of bread could last us and feeling disappointment wash over my body at the answer. "We can't afford for both of us to eat a full roll. You go ahead, I can do without." Even at those words, my stomach growls in pain at the lack of food within it. Counting to ten has always helped and as I close my eyes to focus the pain begins to ebb away if only for a moment. "I have to head to class. Good luck today."

With that, I exit the house, following the path to the center square, or the Plaza as everyone calls it. Normally the walkway would be full of people bustling about but this early in the morning it is just for the engineering students. Within minutes I reach the academy, staring up with awe at the sleek modern building. It is state of the art, featuring all windowed walls and the best tech in Panem. Almost all of the education funds for the district get funneled into the engineering academy.

Most students are already gathered in their classrooms. I make my way to the back of the building, glancing into each classroom with their all glass walls. It is in the back that I find the room for the seventeen-year-old students. There are only ten of us left and I am the last to arrive.

"Nadi!" a familiar voice calls out from the last row of tables in the all-white and gray room. Jobe's pale face is sunken in and tired-looking, as though it took every ounce of energy to make it to the academy. In truth, it likely did, as he lives in the outskirts of the district with the dredges of society. Jobe was the first child from the Outerbelt in twenty years to earn a high enough EAE score to earn admittance into the academy. His parents would have been proud, if they were ever sober enough to realize it. "You finally made it!"

A smile pulls at my lips as I walk over to my group of friends. Jobe sits atop the table carelessly while Cira and Tera sit in their chairs. "You didn't think I'd be late, did you?"

"I thought you were gonna skip," Cira calls out from her desk. People often tell us that we could pass for siblings. Her black wavy hair is almost identical to mine if a bit sleeker, and our dark skin is similar to most others in the district. The main difference comes from our eyes; Cira's were a soft green-hazel color while mine were a deep brown.

"The great Nadia Telle would never skip class!" Jobe shouts then, garnering the attention of the other six students in the room. Our group is the closest of anyone in the class. After all, the entire academy was based on competition. Only two students from each class would end up as head engineers for the district, while the others would join teams of engineers doing the grunt work of the leads. "Wait, would you?"

"Of course not. This is important to me," I return, reaching out my hand to offer the half-roll to Jobe. This was a part of the routine that I've come to cherish. I would bring breakfast for him and he would always give me that look, the one he gives right now. Blue eyes stare at mine, an understanding passing between us. He has pride that prevents him from accepting handouts, but it's not a handout if it's from someone else who understands the struggle. So, finally he undoubtedly relents and takes the bread, giving a look of appreciation in return. It all happens so quickly that Tera and Cira miss it every single time.

"I wish Mrs. Trekk would just cancel class today. We're all worrying too much about tomorrow anyway," Cira points out quietly.

"What d'you have to worry about? Your name's in there six times." That was Jobe in between the bread filling his cheeks.

"We all have something to worry about. Anything could happen," Tera defends her friend. Both of them are from families of engineers. They are as rich as they could come. Most of the people here have some engineers in the family as they have the most time to waste on academics. "Can we not talk about this? I don't want to think about any of us...you know."

It is Mrs. Trekk who comes to the rescue, the blond-haired woman stepping into the classroom and instantly commanding attention and respect. I take my seat beside my lab partner, Tera, and pull out my Academy-issued tablet. It's a thin sheet of what looks to be glass, though I know better. Within moments I have my notes on unconventional thought pulled up in my hurried scrawl.

"The plan originally was to have lab today, but after your abysmal performance in the last practical I feel it necessary to return to the last set of notes," Mrs. Trekk admonishes, giving each of us a pointed stare. "The practical required you to escape from a scenario using unconventional thought and creative rationalization. All but three of you failed to escape, and one of the three utilized the most predictable strategy available, but nice try Jobe."

"Predictable's my middle name, Mrs. Trekk. You can't fault my nature," he shoots back with a warm grin, causing my own face to light up and Tera to elbow me pointedly. 'Why don't you just ask him out already?' she writes on her tablet, causing me to roll my eyes. The thought of ever being with Jobe romantically causes my face to flush and my heart to race.

"I want to congratulate the two people who actually met my expectations, Armen Breech and Nadia Telle." Pride flushes my cheeks as unenthusiastic applause sounds from the room.

"Look at my best friend? What a genius," Tera teases beside me, flicking her head to move her corkscrew hair out of her face.

"Let me also remind you that in just four months you will all take the final exam to determine your final ranking in the class. Only the top two will move on to be trained under the best of the best to become lead engineers. I would encourage all of you to care about your studies as much as Armen and Nadia here do." Mrs. Trekk usually has some kind of lecture to give us, so it is with relief that today I am not on the wrong side of it.

The fatigue of the day begins to creep up as Mrs. Trekk lectures us about unconventional thought processes. It is a mixture of having to be awake so early as well as the lightheaded feeling of not having eaten that day. The only thing that keeps me from falling asleep is the final bell that sounds throughout the academy building. Tera gives a quiet cheer from beside me and on my other side, I see Jobe jerk awake from the noise.

"Spend some time with your families tonight. As you all know, we are taking a hiatus from lecture while the Hunger Games is aired. I truly hope to see all of you back here in a month," Mrs. Trekk speaks with an uncharacteristic softness to her voice. It is like this every year before the Reaping, each of us fearing one of our classmates being chosen. The last time it happened was when we were all thirteen and poor Tyre got chosen. He was no match for that girl from Two who was so deranged she had all of her teeth sharpened to points.

"What a way to end class," Cira murmurs, shouldering her bag and quickly exiting the room, not waiting for any of us. Out of all of us, she was always the most scared for the Reaping. Perhaps it was the fact that her hearing isn't perfect that causes it, knowing she wouldn't stand a chance in the arena partially deaf.

"I don't want to go home yet. Want to visit the Plaza for a bit?" That's Jobe. It makes sense, too, as his parents would likely be home by now and it's terrifying that tomorrow everything could be different.

After agreeing, the three of us leave the academy and make our way to the now busy main square. All of the shops are bustling with people looking for ways to distract themselves for what's about to occur in this same square the next afternoon. Every shop in the district would be closed tomorrow, as it is mandatory that everyone attends the Reaping.

"Nadi, when you become a lead engineer, will you hire all of us?" Jobe teases, grinning in the way that makes a smile form on my own expression.

This is the way it is with them. For years both Tera and Jobe consistently let me know that there's no way anyone else could become the lead engineer if I'm there. In truth, it scares me too much to get my hopes up, but I appreciate the comments my friends give me. Hope is just too dangerous to mess with, so I'd rather shut it out completely, if only when it comes to my future job.

"Oh, hush. What if it's you two that become the leads?"

A resounding laugh comes from my two friends then, gathering the attention of a few people walking by us. We end up sitting on one of the benches on the side of the square, basking in the now intense heat from the sun. "I would bet my first week's pay that you end up the lead. You had the best EAE score in our class!"

"That doesn't mean anything. That was five years ago," I laugh, shaking my head at the pair.

There's silence for a moment. It's not remotely uncomfortable, but rather a lapse that allows me to savor the time spent with friends before the stressful day ahead of us all.

"I know we don't want to think about it, but what happens? If one of us is picked tomorrow, I mean." It seems as though Tera is thinking of the same thing I am. Even the mention of the Reaping as my chest tightening, hands gripping my dark pants tightly.

Neither Jobe or I move to offer her an answer immediately. Instead, the three of us all look at each other, brown eyes on blue on brown, all watching and waiting for someone to bring the rest of us comfort.

It's Jobe that makes the first move. "We have to promise to help each other as best we can. If we're picked, what do we want everyone else to do for us?"

The topic is a morose one, but I suppose it's important. We're near adults now and for that, we have upcoming responsibilities that naturally rest on our shoulders. If any of us get picked to enter that arena, it's almost assured that we'll die and those responsibilities have to fall to someone else.

"I'd want you two, and Cira, to tutor my sister. I plan on tutoring her to make sure she gets a high enough aptitude score to be an engineer and if I...if I can't, I'd want you guys to do it," Tera speaks in a slow, quiet voice. Her sister is eleven years old now, nearing the age in which she'll be tested.

"I promise," I whisper in return, giving her a solemn nod and smiling softly at Jobe when he agrees.

"I'd want you to try to raise funds, send them to the mentors. Maybe, maybe if I had funds they could send me something that would help," Jobe answers. He has his head facing down, staring at his hands which are folded against his knees. He only looks up when we both agree, promising him that we would do our best.

Then it's my turn. If I was picked tomorrow, if the worst case scenario was played out, what was one thing I wanted to have happen? Jobe didn't have a bad idea with the sponsor plan. It would give a fighting chance when there wasn't much of one to begin with. Most tributes from our district weren't memorable enough in the Capitol to get much money or support from them, leaving it up to the district to send funds to help them survive. Due to the deep poverty running through the district, most of the time a tribute was synonymous with a corpse. There was my family, too. I understood years ago that the reason my parents were so ecstatic about my aptitude score was the fact that I'd be able to lift not just myself but my entire family out of poverty if I was willing. My family meant everything to me, proven by the eight deep scars across my back that I'd received after protecting Lumen.

"I would want Lumen to be looked after. I know he can take care of himself, but I always meant to give him help once I became an engineer and I wouldn't want him to be without it," I finally answered, feeling relief flood through me when both of my friends agreed.

If nothing else, I knew if all went to hell tomorrow, Lumen would be protected.

* * *

Today was the day I'd been dreading for a year.

The moment I am awake a deep fear clutches at my chest, making it far too difficult to take a full breath. It takes a full minute to calm myself down, whispering out loud that nothing terrible would happen. I wouldn't be picked, and neither would Lumen, or Jobe, or Cira, or Tera, or anyone else I cared about.

"Good morning, Dia," my mother greets in a soft voice, as though she were speaking to a stray animal who was scared of her. Her smile is tense and obviously faked for me, but I return it regardless. This is our routine, my father makes a larger breakfast than one we're used to while my mother does my hair.

Even now I sit on one of the rickety dining chairs, allowing my mother to run her fingers through my dark wavy hair. It is a motion I lean into, thankful for the gentle touch that reassures me that everything would be alright. By the end of the day, I will be back in this chair eating the customary celebration dinner. It's a dinner we save money for all year, far too extravagant for people of our financial status but one well deserved. A bottle of cheap wine, chicken, even rice. It's a celebration for Lumen and I not being condemned to death for another year in a row.

"You're quiet today. You're not worried, are you?" That's my father calling over from the stove, trying to sound chipper but even I can pull out the note of sadness in it. It's a known fact that neither of my parents wanted children for this day alone; they couldn't bear to send their children off to death, not after dad's brother was called up when they were young.

It's lying to them, I know. It's the only relief I have though, to keep the two of them at ease. If I panic, then they will and it'll be no good for anyone. "No, I know Lumen and I will be okay. I just know a lot of people that have their names in more than us."

"Like her boyfriend." Lumen announces that he's awake in the most annoying manner possible, causing me to roll my eyes at the teasing.

"Boyfriend? Dia, you didn't tell me anything about a boy," our mother admonishes, though sounds excited even underneath the surprise. "What's his name?"

"Jobe Macauley. He's in my class."

"That's not the Macauley family in the Outerbelt, is it?" There it is, the entire reason I kept Jobe from them. He's just a friend, though I knew if I ever wanted to date him my parents would have an issue with it. "You know those people from the Outerbelt are no good, right? His parents are drunks who don't work! You can do better than him, Dia."

"Dad, his parents may be like that but he's not. Jobe is kind and funny, and so selfless. Besides, he's not my boyfriend, just a really good friend," I try to reassure him, shaking my head as my mother finishes the braided bun. "Can we talk about this later? Lumen and I have to get to the Plaza."

It's not much after that I stand in the roped off box with the other seventeen-year-old girls. Cira and Tera stand on either side of me, Cira's hand firmly in mine. Though I suspect that it's more for her to be comforted than me. Tera has been giving me that look the entire time we've been standing, knowing that both she and Cira only have their names in the minimum amount but Jobe and I have ours in countless times. Jobe is worse than I, as the tesserae are his only source of food except for my daily breakfast for him.

The right side of my gray dress is growing damp from the number of times I wipe my free hand on it, trying to rid it of the nervous sweat constantly growing there. The escort for our district has been talking for ages now, going through the history of the Hunger Games that we've all known for years now. It is mandatory that every person attend the Reaping and watch the Hunger Games annually, so each and every one of us knows far too much about the event than we'd prefer.

I can't stand the escort's look this year. Veridian's hair is a deep crimson and paired with her red lipstick looks almost like she's parading the blood that spills in the arena each year. "Let's start with the young men this year, shall we?" the woman exclaims excitedly through the otherwise silence Plaza. The most deafening and resounding silence always comes at the moment between those words and when she reads the name of the next tribute aloud. For District Three, this is a death sentence for anyone who is chosen. It's not as bad as some of the other districts, but our last winner was from over a decade ago.

"And District Three's sixty-sixth male tribute is," Veridian gives a noted pause as though we were waiting with bated breath for the answer, "Dem Huxley!" I've never heard the name before, but the boy steps up out of the fourteen-year bracket. He walks slowly, almost catatonically as though he weren't really there in the present. He has ashen skin and dark brown hair that flops over his eyes. Those green eyes are already flushed with tears and those tears are steadily falling by the time he reaches the stage. I look at him with pure pity in my eyes but can't help but feel the relief that both Lumen and Jobe are safe for another year. Just one more year and they would be safe forever.

"Fantastic! Now for the ladies," Veridian cheers, giving a little clap before walking over to the glass bowl with the women's names. There are hundreds of little slips in that bowl and I know twelve of those slips carry my name. The probability of one of those slips being chosen is slim. There's no need to worry.

I suppose probability never did matter though, as sometimes the less likely outcome still occurs. Such as in this instance, in which I don't remember hearing anything but everyone in my section turns to stare at me. I can hear Cira cry out and squeeze my hand tightly before releasing it. Tera gives me a hug I don't return.

Never once did I actually expect Veridian to call out my name, and yet it happened today.


End file.
